


In the Darkest Hour

by Moit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Addiction, Established Relationship, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Self Harm, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking more than his prescribed dose of Adderall one time is enough before everything in Stiles' life starts to spiral out of control. In the beginning, it was so easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Darkest Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning that while the only drug mentioned and/or abused is Adderall, this may be triggery for some people. Tread lightly.
> 
> As always, special thank you to my beta, Naemi.

_Splash._

Opening the door, Stiles hefted one leg out of the car and stepped directly into a puddle, soaking his shoe and the bottom of his pant leg. 

"Are you kidding me?" he growled, yanking at the strap of his backpack to pull it across the front seat towards himself. He slammed the Jeep door shut and stomped into the building. 

As if to add injury to insult (or something), he banged his elbow against the doorframe when he walked into the apartment. There was no sign of a bruise or a mark, but the pain radiating down the length of his arm told a different story. Grumbling, he changed into a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and seated himself in front of the television with a tub of Ben & Jerry's. 

"You need to dump him. He's no good for you," Stiles told the television through a mouthful of ice cream as his boyfriend walked through the door. "Hey, Derek."

The only response he got was the quirk of an eyebrow.

"How was your day?" he continued, following Derek into the kitchen to put his ice cream away.

"Busy," his boyfriend sighed. "Annamaria called out. How was yours?"

"Long. Stupid." He tugged at the hem of Derek's scrub top. "Better than drawing blood, I guess. I just can't focus. I was in class, but I don't think I actually absorbed a single word my instructor said. My mind is just going a hundred miles an hour. I can't concentrate on anything."

"Did you take your meds today?" 

"Yes." 

Derek took of his jacket and settled his hands on Stiles' waist, drawing their bodies closer together. "Can I do anything to help?"

"Not unless you can find it in your heart to finish my statistics homework for me," Stiles smiled sweetly.

Derek's laugh reverberated off Stiles' chest. "Not a chance."

_Splash. Gulp._

Stiles stared forlornly at the clock on the oven. The glowing green numbers were beginning to blur together, and he was nowhere near finished. He stood up and stretched, feeling the satisfying pop in his back. Not wanting to wake Derek, he crept softly down the hallway to the bathroom. Like always, his bottle of Adderall was on the second shelf in the medicine cabinet. He just needed to stay up a little longer. 

_Splash. Gulp. Cough._

"You're up early," Derek said to Stiles, who was hunched over a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. 

"I couldn't sleep."

"Caffeine isn't going to make it any easier," Derek chided gently, pouring himself a cup. "If you're that tired, maybe you should skip class today. I didn't even hear you come to bed last night."

"It was late." Stiles took a sip from the cup in his hands. He glanced up and forced a smile.

Derek cupped his cheek in one broad hand, staring into his eyes for a moment. It made him feel nervous and twitchy. Derek's thumb smeared over Stiles' bottom lip. "I love you." 

"I love you, too." He tilted his chin up, bumping their lips together for a kiss. "I'll see you tonight." His eyes followed Derek out the door. 

_Splash. Gulp. Cough. Snore._

"You're home," Stiles said, blinking up at Derek. "What time is it?"

"Nine-thirty," his boyfriend frowned. "I made dinner hours ago, but I didn’t think you would sleep so long."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed half-heartedly, burying his face in the pillow.

"I made burritos," Derek tried again.

"The kind with Velveeta melted on top?"

"Do I make any other kind?" When Stiles didn’t move, Derek shook one of his sock-clad feet. "Come on. Get up and eat something."

_Splash. Gulp. Cough. Snore. Blurt._

"Stiles?" his professor asked, standing up from her desk.

"I'm fine, really," Stiles said, more embarrassed than anything as he picked himself up off the floor. "I was just up too late last night studying."

"Or drinking," one of his classmates snickered.

Stiles gave him a rueful smile, hoping that would be enough to pacify the onlookers.

_Splash. Gulp. Cough. Snore. Blurt. Hiccup._

"I passed out," Stiles groaned. When he tried to sit up, Derek leaned over and pushed him gently back down. 

"Just relax. I don't want a repeat performance."

Stiles shook his head. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I just got a little lightheaded, that's all."

"Stiles," Derek said, adopting the tone he used with his patients, "that’s not normal. When is the last time you ate something?"

"I don’t—I feel fine." 

Derek leaned closer until they were nose-to-nose. His eyes flashed electric blue. "I know you're lying. Did you forget that I can hear your heartbeat? Smell your sweat? I don't know what's going on, but you’re hiding something."

Stiles' heart raced. Head swimming, his vision began to cloud over again. He was dimly aware of Derek smacking his cheeks and calling his name. Nimble fingers slipped a capsule between his lips. 

_Splash. Gulp. Cough. Snore. Blurt. Hiccup. Whimper._

"What's wrong?" Derek asked, fixing him with a look of concern. 

"I'm just not in the mood," Stiles said, shrugging Derek off when the other man's fingertips crept up under the layers of his shirts. His belt was on the last notch, and if Derek's fingertips got any higher, they would be able to count Stiles' ribs.

"Okay," his boyfriend said slowly. Thankfully, he didn't push the issue. 

Stiles stood up. “I’m going to bed.” 

Derek didn't ask for a goodnight kiss. 

_Splash. Gulp. Cough. Snore. Blurt. Hiccup. Whimper. Crash._

Derek’s dark eyes roamed the length of Stiles’ torso with what could only be described as sadness. 

Stiles finished pulling the shirt over his head, knowing he was caught. He held up a hand, palm-out. "You don't have to say it. I know. I've been trying to stop, but it's just too hard. I’m going to check myself into treatment later this week." What he was not expecting was for Derek to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace. 

"I am so sorry, Stiles," he sobbed. "I never should have gotten on you about taking those fucking pills." 

"Hey." Stiles pulled away to wipe at the tears in his boyfriend's eyes. "You need to stop doing the guilt thing. This is not your fault."

Derek nodded, his thumbs smoothing over the sharp points of Stiles' hipbones.

Later that night, Stiles dumped the entire bottle of Adderall down the toilet.

_Flush._

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, I'm on Tumblr. [@moitmiller](http://moitmiller.tumblr.com)


End file.
